The Beginning
by kfeve11
Summary: Before Bella and Edward there was another couple who broke the boundaries. Read Esme and Carlisle's real story. Hope you all enjoy. Please RnR! it's a very short one, just had a quick idea and needed to write it down. x
1. Chapter 1

"I think we all better sit down," Carlisle sighed deeply, worry casting a dark shadow across his gentle features.

This seemed like a particularly strange request as none of us needed to sit down, I mused as I sat between Edward and Renesmee, Jake on the other side of her with his arm slung casually around her shoulder. The other sofa's were taken by our siblings; Esme took a seat in the arm chair and Carlise perched on the arm besides her. Both looked extremely troubled. The concern on my face was mirrored by everyone else in the room. Jasper must be going insane.

"We haven't been entirely honest with you all," Carlisle started, seeming unsure, "about Esme's story."

We all knew what he meant by 'story'. The way Esme had become a vampire was one we all knew well. It was such a heartbreaking way to be forced into this life. The inability to have a child had also stolen her will to live.

"How do you mean?" Jasper asked, no doubt wanting the atmosphere to change around him.

"You saved her, didn't you?" Alice piped up.

"Oh yes," Carlisle agreed, "But that wasn't the first time we had met."

A brief silence captured the room.

"So you knew her before?"

"Yes, I was a patient of Carlisle's for over a year," Esme nodded. I noticed her eyes never lifted enough to meet anyone else's. It was almost like she was ashamed.

I felt Edward tense besides me, "How did I not know this?"

Carlisle's face was almost apologetic as he looked at his first son, "I was very careful with my thought's around you. I tried my hardest not to let Esme become part of consciousness. Our love was wrong."

"Wrong?" I asked, "How?"

**1921 **

Esme Evenson sat waiting, her hands ringing tightly together as she took in her surroundings. Dr. Cullen's waiting room had not changed in the few months he had been her physician, yet the atmosphere forced her to search for something comforting, homely. She found nothing. It was a surgery. Sterilised. Lonely.

"Mrs Evenson," a wonderfully soft voice interrupted her search for comfort, "Would you like to come through."

Taking a deep steadying breath, Esme stood and walked into Carlisle's office. His boot-faced nurse stood in the corner, her permanent scowl not shifting as she eyed Esme. This room was much nicer, she thought. The furnishings were a dark mahogany, his wall lined with well-thumbed books. It was warm. Comfortable. Instantly, Esme relaxed into the soft leather chair that faced Dr. Cullen's own chair.

"I assume you would like the news," he smiled gently, shuffling his notes.

Sometimes Esme found it rather difficult to speak in Dr. Cullen's presence. His blonde hair shone in the soft lighting. His high cheek-bones were chiselled, his lips always turned slightly at the corner. And his eyes. They took Esme's breath away so frequently, she had made a conscious effort not to look in them very often. Their strange gold colour was so enthralling, Esme often (more often than was decent) found herself wondering why he was unmarried. How could someone so beautiful be unattatched. She sighed to herself.

Having barely found her voice, Esme nodded, "Please, Dr. Cullen,"

"Well, I am delighted to tell you, you're pregnant," he smiled.

Her breath caught for a second as a million different emotions flooded through her. Anxiety, fear and hope. Above all, hope. This was the fifth time she had heard this news, yet it had never become more than a dream to be snatched away from her. Five pregnancies and no children. It seemed to be her own personal curse at times. Retribution for a crime she had never committed.

"Oh, my," she whispered, allowing herself to look right into Dr. Cullen's eyes. As she failed to tear her eyes away, tears filled them. Her face was flushed with a joy she wasn't sure she was allowed to feel just yet.

"Now, Mrs Evenson," Carlisle forced a bigger smile. He wasn't particularly sure Esme should attempt to carry another child, her body clearly wasn't strong enough. But she wanted this so much, this he could see without a shadow of a doubt. And right now he was struggling to find something to distract him from the beautiful flush in her cheeks and her blue eyes, brimming with tears. He cleared his throat once more, "I am sure this warning is something you will be all too aware of, but I need to let you know there are risks. You need to be extremely careful. I recommend a lot of rest, no stress. You need to be extremely cautious."

Esme nodded, trying her best not to think of the stress that would be waiting for her at home. Her husband would be waiting for her. For just a second she faltered, her lip quivering slightly. She saw Dr. Cullen's face change slightly and her stomach clenched. I can't lie to him. Please, please don't ask me.

"Mrs Evenson," he started. He wasn't sure how to proceed but knew he had to. This beautiful woman couldn't be forced to endure any more pain, "Is there something wrong?"

She said nothing, just shaking her head, copper curls bobbing with each movement. For just a second Carlisle was entranced.

"Please, Esme. I know you want this child more than anything. If there is something that you need, or something that may be affecting your pregnancy, I'd like to help."

His eyes burned with such sincerity that Esme had to force herself not to leap into his lap and sob her heart out. Instead she let her head drop, the tears falling onto her clasped hands. She had not realised Dr Cullen had moved in front of her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"My husband," she managed to whisper. His abuse had become more frequent. He was rarely violent but the awful words he shouted at her almost every night now, may as well have been a knife stabbing her in the heart.

Carlisle shuddered slightly, barely thinking she would notice the unnatural cold of his hand. It painful to know someone with such a sweet nature was slowly having her soul damaged by some cruel lout. He had no right to be angry; he had no right to feel anything to this man. Yet he hated him.

The harsh glare Carlisle received from his Nurse forced to take a breath and move away from Esme slightly. "Just try to get as much rest as possible."

Wiping her eyes, Esme tried to steady her breathing, "Thank you Dr Cullen."

"You're Welcome, Mrs Evenson,"

Oh God. The pain was awful. The burning spread from her stomach, her screams echoed throughout the house. She rolled on her side, feeling a horrible wetness around her legs. And that was when she saw it. The Blood. Everywhere. And as her head throbbed, the scorching continued in her stomach.

"Mrs Evenson!" she heard the distant cry of her housekeeper, and she thanked God she wasn't alone in that moment. "Oh. I'll go and find the Doctor." She sounded so far away but Esme knew Mrs Bodkins was besides her. She was slowly losing consciousness.

It seemed like hours later when the darkness began to lift. "Esme?" the voice was urgent, almost panicked, "Esme can you hear me?"

His voice was clear and although Esme was almost fully consumed by the pain, his scent filled her lungs and she was able to breathe clearly for the first time in days, "Carlisle?"

"I'm here," he exhaled his relief, "Don't worry. I'm here."

And he was. No matter how much his throat burned, Carlisle was going to save her. He had told himself that had she been able wait for him, he would do everything to save her. Even the unthinkable. He was sure Edward would disapprove but there was no way he could allow Esme not to exist.

That evening, Esme woke, unsure of what had truly happened. She hoped against all hope that it had been a dream and an angel who looked remarkably like Carlisle Cullen. Yet as her eyes fluttered open, she knew the worst had happened. She took in her bedroom, the one she did not share with her husband, seeing her housekeeper, Mrs Bodkin pouring warm water into a bowl and the fire flickering in the grate. It held her for a moment, and the memory of the pain stung her.

"Esme?" a cautious murmur caught her attention. It wasn't a voice that belonged in her bedroom, yet she was relieved to hear him so close. Esme tried her best to move over, in order to glance at him. Her angel. However, as she shifted a pain tore straight through her.

"Please don't move," a hand rested on her shoulder and she welcomed his cool touch.

Carlisle was very aware how warm she was, more so than normal, and concluded the fever hadn't fully passed. She was so drawn she was almost as pale as he was, and her eyes lacked any life. This will kill her, he surmised sadly. He wasn't surprised that the pain clenched him so tightly he could barely breathe.

I love her. The thought flashed across his mind that he barely noticed for shock. Nearly three hundred years of wandering the earth alone and he had fallen in love with the beautifully frail human. Lord help me, he prayed silently as he watched Esme open her eyes once more, this time filled with tears of realisation.

"He's gone isn't he?" Esme whispered, trying to control the hysterics that were slowly but surely building inside. I can't do this, she thought to herself, not every time. I cannot have a child. The knowledge was the worst she could imagine. Her life was empty now.

"Yes," he paused, "I'm so sorry Esme."

She nodded but did not speak. A boy. She had always wanted a beautiful boy. A son to call her own. And now she couldn't have him. She would never be allowed to hold him. And then the tears came. All she wanted in that long never ending moment of emptiness was for Dr Cullen to take her in his arms and console her.

That was all Carlisle wanted to do. He couldn't though. It was wrong. She was a married woman and his patient. Worse, she was human. This could never be the right thing to do yet it pained him so much. Instead he sat gently on the side of the bed and rested his hand on her back. When she turned her head into his shoulder and cried he had to use every ounce of self control not to squeeze her tight to him and confess how he felt.

After a while, the crying subsided and everything was still. Neither had moved for such a long time, yet the silence was comforting to Esme. She knew that eventually Dr Cullen would have to go and she knew right then she would be heartbroken once more. As she leant on his hard shoulder she tried to remember his coolness, his scent, anything that would console her when she could no longer cope with the life she was forced to lead. That was the moment that Esme Evenson realised she was deeply in love with Carlisle Cullen.

She raised her head to look at him and was once again struck back by his eyes. It wasn't just the sheer beauty of them this time, but the pain in them. They mirrored her own and for just a second she pretended that he could feel the same way about her.

"I was going to call him Edward," Esme whispered, though she wasn't sure why.

Carlisle smiled softly, thinking about his own son, changed just three years ago, "That's a wonderful name."

"Thank you, Car...Dr Cullen."

"Please," he lifted a hand to her cheek and let it rest there for just a moment, "It's Carlisle. You're welcome Esme. I'm...very sorry. I shall return in the morning to check up on you." He turned then, asking Mrs Bodkin to get him if Esme's condition changed at all. With a gentle smile he turned back to Esme, "Good night."

"Goodnight, Carlisle," Esme breathed, holding his gaze for a fraction too long.

Then he was gone. Her head settled on the pillow, yet she could not drift into dreams. The pillow was too hot now. All she wanted was Carlisle's cold hand on her cheek. That was the first moment she had truly felt worth more than what she had been given in life. And she could never have it.

Over a month had passed. Carlisle had returned the next day, yet Esme had not seen him since. She was attended by another physician, only being told that Carlisle had left. She felt empty. There was nothing now...

"Esme?" a booming voice broke her thoughts, "Come here."

With a heavy sigh, she turned from gazing out of the window and tried to block Dr. Cullen from her thoughts. Her husband voice rung out again, louder and more impatient this time, and Esme flinched. At this hour her husband calling her could mean just one thing. It sickened her more and more each time he forced her to be intimate with him. What could she do? She was a wife.

"Yes Charles?"

Before she was barely in the room, she felt a great weight bare straight into her stomach, causing the bile to rise in her throat. The pain was something so familiar, something that hurt her more than anything. Crumbling to her knee's, she felt her vision blur as she chocked for breath. It wasn't coming quick enough. Each breath felt like she hadn't breathed at all, but the air would not go into her lungs quick enough.

Charles Evenson's face was right beside her own now, but she didn't look up. Esme knew if she did she would betray herself. She would not, could not cry in front of this man. She would not break down, because she had lost all hope of ever becoming a mother or seeing the man she shouldn't (although she truly did) love, once more. Esme knew she had to be brave now.

His voice came then, deep and snarling, "You are a harlot. You will not think of this man," her eyes shot up then, meeting his furious glare, "You are my wife."

He knew, she thought frantically trying to find the words to deny it. But she couldn't lie. Even now, as he stood over her, threatening her life with his animalistic rage, she could not bring the right words to lie.

Instead, Esme simply nodded. Silent tears streamed down her face now as she stared at the carpet. He left the room then. It seemed like an eternity before she could move from her spot on her hands and knees, but she eventually made it to her own rooms. The tremors that shook through her body did not stop for the rest of the evening and all her mind could do was pray that she would see Carlisle again.

Little did she know as she sat in silence, wishing for her life to end, her saviour sat in the huge oak tree adjacent to her window trying to figure out a way to save her. A way for them to be together. Carlisle loathed to be violent, yet had he experienced any less than the three hundred years of self control, he knew that Charles Evenson would no longer be alive. Instead, he concentrated on Esme, watching her stare dejectedly at her ceiling. Her eyes, beautifully blue, were glassy. Carlisle knew her mind was elsewhere. He prayed she was thinking of him too.

"How did you not kill him there and then?" Emmett asked, eyes wide and jaw slackened with disgust.

Carlisle laughed once, without humour, "You have no idea how hard I tried. I almost did. But I couldn't tear myself away from her again. I had spent a month away from her and it was impossible to be away from again. Especially when she looked so fragile, so broken."

Esme leaned her head back into his stomach, her eyes closing slightly and a small smile played on the corner of her lips. It seemed so entirely unnatural that they not be together. It was just...wrong. As she did this, Carlisle's hand stroked her hair behind her ear gently. I couldn't help smile softly at how perfect they were. They were part of the same piece. Without the other I knew that there were broken.

A tapping on the window roused Esme slightly from her comatose state. It took a while for her eyes to slide from the emptiness of her ceiling to the darkness that was the night outside her window. Her breath caught as she realised what was making the noise.

An angel.

Carlisle Cullen stood on the other side of the glass. It felt almost indestructible as her clumsy fingers struggled to open the window. Her heart hammered in her chest, pounding against her ribs as her eyes refused to break away from the stunningly hypnotic gold that was his eyes. It was taking too long. Her palms began to sweat as she struggled with the lock on the window still.

All the while, Carlisle stood, his eyes wide with wonder. Never had he felt such elation as he did the moment Esme managed to open the window and finally he was merely inches away from her. He could touch her, but he didn't. A wave of fear held him in position for just a second, as he watched her, scared she would run from him or scream. The fear of rejection almost forced Carlisle to run.

Esme had no such fear. She used all the terror she possibly could thinking about her empty, loveless, childless existence. Instead, she closed the gap between the two of them so quickly, her arms winding round Carlisle's neck, holding herself to him. She allowed herself to breathe as his arms wound gently round her waist and his mouth rested gently against her hair. This was right, she mused, this was how life should be.

They stood like that for a long while, Carlisle almost forgot Esme could not stay like that forever, no matter how much she may have liked too. He leaned back slightly to see her face and wiped away the silent tears that had been falling on his shirt.

"Hush, I'm here now, please don't cry," he pleaded.

She sniffed slightly, not looking away, "I'm so happy you came back. I thought I would never see you again."

"I tried to leave," he whispered, "I couldn't leave you. Not with him."

"He knows," Esme's eyes grew wider with terror. She couldn't lose him. Not when she had lost every other hope she had in life. All faith had almost been obliterated. Carlisle was that ray of sunshine breaking through the storm clouds.

She saw his eyes darken slightly, "I know. He hurt you."

It wasn't a question. Esme saw the anger bubbling just below the beautifully serene surface, and raised a hand to his face, "It doesn't matter..."

"It doesn't matter?" he stepped back slightly, glaring incredulously, "How can you say that. I saw what he did, I..."

"It doesn't matter," she interrupted him quickly, "because you are here. And that is more than I could possibly hope for."

Before she knew what had happened, she was on her bed, cradled gently in Carlisle's arms. The speed stunned her slightly, "What...?"

"There are a few things you don't know about me, Esme," he smiled slightly, yet his eyes were not laughing. They were filled with a regret that Esme could not understand.

"I knew it," she whispered, almost laughing at Carlisle's stunned expression, "I knew there was something magical about you."

He paused then, musing over the word. He had never considered himself magical. He knew Edward would entirely disagree. Edward thought they were monsters; Carlisle knew they weren't. They had just been tested in different ways to most people. But he knew they certainly were not magical.

"Not magical," he shook his head, "I have strengths that the average person doesn't have."

"Why?" she asked, her head burying deeper into his marble chest.

"I...I'm not," he took a deep steadying breath, preparing for the hysterics, "I'm not...human."

Although all his muscles were tensed, waiting for her to recoil in horror or...something but she stayed very still, "Not human?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"A...vampire."

Still he waited for her to cry out in disgust, struggle from his embrace. But Esme simply turned her face towards him and smiled, "Like Dracula?"

Carlisle didn't know whether to laugh or kiss her in that moment, the relief was so intense. He laughed. "Not quite," he whispered once his composure had been regained, "I find alternate ways, but the basics are still the same."

"Oh," her eyes were wide, but her smile still remained. She loved something that wasn't even of this world. It made sense to her. He was too perfect to be merely a human. Carlisle Cullen had always been something too special to be counted in the same category as her husband. The strangest thing was, Esme understood what her reaction was supposed to be. She knew that Carlisle was waiting for her to scream and cry and crumble away from him in this most surreal of all moments. But the love that filled her soul right now only seemed to grow.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, loosening his hold on her. The silence indicated him that the information was taking the natural reaction. He knew he had to leave now, yet he was stunted in place. He couldn't.

"No," she grabbed at him so quickly it took him by surprise, "Stay?"

She could feel her heart pulsing right through her entire being, unexpected tears stung her eyes as she imagined he may leave her, and her stomach clenched so tight she nearly doubled over in pain. Why would he leave? What had she done wrong. Her mind whirled as she looked up at Carlisle, not saying anything yet her eyes begging him to stay.

Another long steady breath escaped his lips as he gazed upon her. The tears in her eyes broke his heart and he cursed himself for being the cause. He knew he couldn't stay, or shouldn't and yet he understood that nothing could make him leave Esme. There was nothing on earth that could make him cause her pain. He would protect her from everything that may cause her harm. Everything.

"I love you," she finally whispered, blood rising in her cheeks. This was ridiculously surreal and yet it seemed like the most natural thing to say. Because it was the truth. Carlisle was the only person Esme could be herself with, say what her soul needed to say. No one else knew of her heart ache when she realised she could no longer have a child. And no one else knew the burning love she felt for this man.

Gently, very gently, Carlisle brought his hand to her cheek, feeling the warmth flush through them. If he were human he would be trembling now. She leaned into it, never breaking her eyes from his. It felt like an eternity but finally their lips met. Esme did not move, before she melted into his arms and kissing him with a passion she did not know she possessed.

In just a brief second, Carlisle felt something he had never known. Like his entire world had shifted. The change in him was so immense that he could not describe the emotion that rushed through him in that instance. Everything now was her. Everything in his life was Esme.


	2. Chapter 2

"Seriously, Carlisle," Edward scoffed, "How could I not have known about this? Any of it. It would never have left your thought."

His eyes became slightly wary and flickered to me for just a second, "When we went away, you had a bit of a...erm...rebellious stage."

That shut Edward up. His mouth set in a grim line as his eyes slid to mine. His own remorse for his 'rebellious stage' always affected his perception of what my reaction would, or should, be. In truth, it didn't bother me when this was mentioned, "Relax," I smiled.

When he didn't respond and kept the silly expression, I found myself reassuring him, "Seriously, Edward. You know this doesn't bother me. If it did, I wouldn't be here now."

"But..."

"Jeez, Edward," Alice's shrill voice interrupted him, "We are listening to Esme and Carlisle's story. Shut it before I smash everything you own up."

"Not bothered," he grinned.

A flash of evil crossed her face and I grinned. I liked evil Alice. "Shut up, or I won't tell you anything to do with Bella's future. I am no longer looking out for her. And I saw something really quite worrying last night..."

"Fine," he threw his arms up in process, "Alice..."

"What did you see?"

"My God, Edward, I swear I will kill you..."

Silence enveloped the room as I tried to contain my laughter as best I could. Besides Alice, I could see Emmett doing the same thing.

"Please continue, Carlisle," she was practically bouncing in her seat.

As the sun began to rise, Carlisle knew he had to leave. The night had been the most wonderful experience of his life. He and Esme had shared their love in every way possible. They had been as man and wife, despite his reservations on hurting her. She had reassured him they would be fine, and he had trusted her. Esme's faith in him already seemed unshakeable. He looked down to memorise her perfect, peaceful face as she slept. She was so beautiful.

Esme's eyes fluttered open in that instance to be met by the most beautiful eyes she had ever encountered. And then she remembered last night, and her smile widened. His blonde hair fell slightly into his eyes, so she moved her hand to brush it away, teasing her hand over the cool stone skin. It has been the most perfect night she had ever encountered and the sun brought a beautiful glow.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too," Carlisle grinned. He had never been more content than he was at this moment, yet he knew he had to leave.

The sun, bright for this time of morning, trickled through the open window. Esme stared in wonder as the light mirrored of Carlisle's skin, illuminating everything. "Carlisle..."

"A little...difficulty with my life," he grinned, "I don't go out in the sun."

"It's...it's beautiful," Esme mumbled in awe, "You're beautiful."

He smirked slightly, musing over the oddness of the situation. Esme really shouldn't think he was beautiful; she should be screaming for him to leave. But, by some miracle, she didn't. Instead she loved him like he loved her. It was incredible really, almost absurd. Yet he was grateful. For nearly three hundred years, Carlisle had been companionless and now there were two people in his life who he treasured dearly. He had finally paid his penance.

"I really must leave," he sighed, pulling her closer to him, "Can I come again tonight?"

Esme pressed her face deeper into his perfectly sculpted chest, breathing him in for the last time, "I don't know how I'll survive till then."

With a final, lingering kiss he disappeared from her window, leaving Esme wondering if it had even been real. It had been the single greatest night of her entire life, and she could barely reassert reality to comprehend what had happened. She knew she had spent an evening with the one man she has ever loved and could ever love. She knew they had been as intimate as a man and wife could be. And she knew that she would never live to regret her actions.

Afterwards, Carlisle had held her so tenderly, whispering beautiful poetry in her ear till she fell asleep and dreamt. He had been so worried that he may hurt her but of course he hadn't. She knew in her heart he could never hurt her. Carlisle Cullen would never be like Charles Evenson. This stung slightly as she realised although, in the dark night, they may act as man and wife, they never could be.

Pushing that thought quickly from her mind, she climbed out of bed to examine herself. Her stomach, an injury she had completely forgotten about was still swollen and bruised. The sight of it brought on a wave of nausea as Esme realised she had to face her husband yet again today. Luckily, it wouldn't have to be the evening but she had to get through that to see Carlisle again.

The thought of seeing Carlisle again brought back the task in hand. She ran her hands over her body, finding a few tender spots, but no bruising which was good. As she turned to look at her back in the long guilt-framed mirror, she noticed a few area's slightly darker than the rest. Examining them as closely as she could, she realised what the shapes were: fingers. The memories of his hold came flooding back and she flushed deeply, remembering each second of it once more with a deep smile on her face.

"We spend every night together then," Carlisle grinned widely, "It was heartache just to stay away for even a minute, never mind a whole day."

I had found myself drawn into this perfect love story, eyes wide like a child. I knew it like the back of my own hand. It was almost our story, except I had been free to love Edward. Esme was not free to love Carlisle.

"But none of this explains Esme's story," Jacob piped up, his brow furrowed in confusion. I think the stories freaked him out a little bit, but he hid it well for Renesmee's sake. There was another beautiful love story in the making.

"Things weren't always so perfect," Esme sighed. Her voice brought me back into the story. "I spent my nights in the most perfect world imaginable, yet I still had to do my duty as a wife."

"Your duty?" Rosalie whispered, more horror in her expression. Rosalie's perfect world had ended as she was forced to perform her 'duty'.

Esme said nothing as she looked at her daughter, yet her eyes said absolutely everything. I shivered with repulsion at the implication on her silence.

"Those nights," Carlisle let out a hard sigh, "were the hardest I had ever had. I waited for you, hoping you may return one night. My God, it was awful."

Esme laid awake every night she was forced to share her husband's bed. She dreamed that it was Carlisle besides her, holding her and telling her that he loved her. She wished she could be free to be his wife, and bear his children and grow old with him. None of that was possible but on the night's she wasn't surrounded by his beautiful love, she imagined it was a possibility.

When she woke in the mornings, with little sleep, Esme would make her way back to her room knowing he had been there. It made the wait to see him a little more bearable.

However, her dream world soon shattered around her. Month's later Esme had a legitimate reason to visit Carlisle at work. She was pregnant again. Although fear clenched her soul as she thought about all the other miscarriages, Esme's heart soared with joy that she would be able to have a baby. She knew it was Carlisle's child too, although it was seemingly impossible. The dread of having a child with a cruel husband always caught her, yet this time it did not come. Carlisle was the father.

Carlisle knew too, even though his extensive medical knowledge would dictate otherwise, he knew he would become a father. Something he had felt with Edward, yet something he had given up so long ago. His heart swelled for a moment and without thinking, he had swept Esme up into his arms, planting soft kisses all over.

"I know he's yours," she looked up at him, eyes shining with wonder, "It's fate, Carlisle. I can feel it."

He beamed, resting his forehead against hers, "I know, my love. I would never have thought this possible. My goodness. Esme, I love you with my entire soul. Never in my long existence have I been this perfectly content."

It was silent for a long moment, when Esme finally whispered, "Take me away from here."

"Esme..." Carlisle started but was cut off by the intensity in her crystal eyes. Could he? Could they just leave here and never return? They could raise the baby elsewhere, somewhere Charles would never have found them. It was possible.

"Please Carlisle, we could be together freely and raise our son. It would be wonderful. Perfect. I'm sure you could be a doctor anywhere," she whispered frantically, trying to emphasise the need that they both had.

Her eyes wide with hope, fear, love, stopped any denial Carlisle had in his mind. She wanted to be with him the same way he needed her. And she was pregnant. If she were left to return to that monster she would never be able to cope with the pregnancy. It would kill her. Carlisle knew that and it pained him in a way he could never describe.

"Yes," he whispered, never letting his eyes drop from hers as they filled with tears.

"Oh Carlisle," she whispered, throwing her arms round his neck and pulling his all too willing lips to hers once more. Never in her life had she been more content than in this instance. Her life was perfect.

They planned where they would run to. He would come to her room that evening and they would leave. Charles would never find her and she could raise her child knowing that both herself and her baby were truly loved. Esme had never felt that before with a man. Safety. It seemed strange that something so basic hadn't been afforded to her before. She knew Carlisle was the one to give her everything she had ever dreamed about. A loving family.

She barely noticed anything as she returned home, eyes shining with excitement. If someone addressed her, it took a while for her to snap out of the dream world she was in. And when she sat down to dinner with her husband she glowed with the knowledge this would be one of the last times she ever, ever had to see his cold harsh face again.

"Esme?" his sharp voice broke her thoughts.

"Yes, Charles?" she tried to contain her sigh. It was hard when she knew she didn't have to endure him any longer.

"Please pay attention," he snapped, "We are going for a walk after dinner."

"Oh," that had stumped her. She wanted to be away from him as quick as possible. She had planned to retire to her room immediately and have done with her husband. "I was actually feeling rather ill. I would much rather rest this evening and take a walk tomorrow."

"No," was his sharp reply.

Something stirred in Esme. Her repressed feelings towards Charles Evenson bubbling towards the surface, "I am not going, Charles."

There was a silence then that scared Esme more than she had been since she had Carlisle in her life. But he wasn't here now. Her hand moved unconsciously to her stomach and she noted with a twinge of regret that Charles noticed this. Instead of the loud screaming she expected, Esme was unpleasantly surprised as his face twisted and his voice became low and icy, "We are going for a walk."

An hour later, Esme left the house her face white with worry. In her six years married to Charles he had never once offered a gesture such as this yet she tried to believe he knew nothing. It had been months and nothing had come of his suspicions of her love for another man. Not a word. She never argued when she shared his bed, and he never voiced a concern again. Yet she knew this was the reason for their walk.

He didn't speak for a long time, too long. Esme had been too preoccupied in her own thoughts that she barely even realised they were no longer walking through the town any more. The woods around her began to thicken and the walkway disappeared into a small dirt track. She glanced up at Charles but he kept his eyes fixed forward and his arm, which her hand rested on, tightened against his body so she couldn't pull away.

"Charles?"

Nothing.

"Charles? Take me back now," she demanded, panic rising in her voice.

"Not to him," he snarled and she was silenced, gaping at him in shock.

If she had been pale before, her face was as white as Carlisle's now, no blood flowing through her veins. Everything in her body froze. He knew. Not only was he suspicious, he knew she would leave him. Oh God. He knew she was pregnant too.

It was then that she started struggling. But his arm continued to crush her hand to his side. She was trapped. Please Carlisle, please find me. Don't let him take you away from me, she prayed silently. Hoping against all hope that he would hear her. A surge of power enabled her to swing her body around and bring her knee into Charles' groin causing him to drop her arm, grunting in pain.

She used this moment to escape, running with all her strength, tears streaming from her eyes. They blurred her vision and she gasped for air as she pelted through the woods as fast as possible. She had no idea where she was or where she would go. Would Carlisle find her hear if she hid. A pain gripped her stomach, leaving her breathless for a moment and a bigger fear hit her.

Oh God, no. Not again. Her thoughts were riddled with a bigger terror now. She was going to lose her child again. She stood then, trying to catch her breath and control the spasms in her stomach. Hoping it was just the exertion Esme realised she couldn't run forever.

She was right.

"Esme," his voice held her still once more, "You are not running away from me."

"Why?"

"You're my wife! You're to obey me and only me."

"I don't love you," Esme whispered, knowing it wouldn't make a difference.

"I don't love you either, Esme. But you belong to me," he snarled, "and I will not let another man steal what belongs to me."

His words were not a surprise, yet she couldn't believe she was here, about to suffer a loss much greater than anything else in the world because of a man who didn't even care for her.

"He's not stealing anything," her voice shook as the pain shot through her again, "I was never yours Charles. Regardless of a wedding or not. I love him and I will not be part of this anymore Charles. I don't care for my life but I have another to think of."

"A child?" he laughed, "You can't carry a child. You're a pathetic excuse for a woman."

That stung too, knowing that her husband had been laughing at her inability to have a baby. God, she felt sick. It was disgusting. He was evil. She glared at him with a hatred she had never felt before. Her body burned with it as she began to back away from him.

She was too stunned by him that he snatched her arms too quickly and dragged him with her as he upped his pace. She had to stumble along to even keep within his arms reach, to stop her falling flat on her face. Her heart was hammering in her chest and the spasms in her stomach continued more frequently, never letting her forget what situation she was in.

As they emerged from the thickness of the trees into the harsh evening air, she gasped. For there was nothing before them except vast never-ending emptiness at her feet. She caught a glimpse over the edge of the cliff and it turned her stomach. She was going to die. She finally realised he would actually kill her and she wouldn't get to see her love again. She would never hold her son.

Esme looked at her husband and although the dread trembled through her entire body she refused to look away or beg. Instead she met his eyes steadily and bit her bottom lip till it bled to stop it from trembling. She raised her chin in defiance.

The last thing she remembered was the air speeding past her and a crack. Her spine.

The room was silent for what seemed like forever as we processed this. She was murdered. Not one person in this room could ever contemplate the rage it would take to harm this surrogate mother, the sweetest and kindest person one could ever hope to meet. She encapsulated the best of humanity and a demon took that away.

Carlisle held her now, stroking her arm reassuringly. Esme's face was contorted in a horror that pained each person in here. She was remembering her child. Their child. We all understood why she wouldn't have ever told this story. The memory would have been too painful.

"I love you," Carlisle whispered into her ear.

Esme turned to him then, the love of her life, and smiled, "That's the best thing you have ever given me. Your heart."

"When did you find her?" Jasper asked. He obviously felt the pain begin to subside enough for the story to begin again.

As Carlisle's shift finished at the hospital that evening, he had to hold himself back to stop him running full speed to grab Esme and steal her away into the night. He was so anxious for the time to pass that his colleagues had begun to notice his preoccupation. Of course, no one knew what it was, yet this uncharacteristic behaviour in the doctor was easily noticeable.

Esme's home was less than a minute if he ran, yet he couldn't as the sun set behind the clouds. Instead he hopped from tree to tree until finally he was outside her bedroom window.

But it was empty. His brow furrowed as he tried to listen for her in the house, but she wasn't there. Where could she be, he wondered. He noticed a distinct lack of her husband too and something inside him sank. A gust of wind blew both their scents towards him and Carlisle's head flickered to the direction it led. The woods.

His heart seemed to fall into his stomach in that moment and, regardless of his secrecy, he ran. His body had never moved so fast and even with his speed it didn't seem fast enough. He stopped dead for a fraction of a second as Esme's sweet scent was mixed with freshly spilt blood. Oh God. Please let her still be alive. He didn't know how he would survive without her in his world. There seemed to be no words to describe the pain he felt in those brief moments knowing she may not whisper his name again.

He arrived at the cliff top moments too late as he saw her body being moved by paramedics. He cursed himself for being too slow, berating himself. He could have gotten her care much quicker. She had more chance of surviving. He could save her. The faint infrequent glug of her heartbeat was like music. Carlisle prayed she could keep her heart beating long enough for him to see her again. He knew the pain she would feel if she discovered she had lost her child, but he would be there for her.

Swinging from the tree tops to keep the ambulance in view, he followed her back to the hospital, intently listening for that heart beat that he could not predict. Each time it failed, he thought he would go insane with grief but it would thump again just to reassure him his love was still there, still fighting.

"Hello, Dr. Cullen," a voice passed him, yet he did not register the speaker, "I thought you'd left for the day?"

"I...erm...forgot my coat," he whispered, painfully slowed at a human pace. He was trying to pick up her scent in the emergency room and he could smell nothing. He became frantic as he lost her scent, couldn't find it in the place she should be.

Oh no, please, God no, he begged as Carlisle turned towards the place he feared the most.

The morgue.

He moved quicker then, breaking into a jog. To the human eye it looked like he was moving as fast as he physically could.

There she was, laying there cold and unmoving. He heard only a silence and the grief overwhelmed him. Carlisle's world came crashing down in that instance. As he moved by her side, he rested his head against her swollen but unmoving stomach and prayed for the life that never got a chance to start and the heart of a woman who never got a chance to be a mother. As a tearless wrenching sob escaped his lips, a noise suddenly restored all hope he had lost seconds ago. Her heart gave a pained thud, possibly one of her last.

Carlisle knew what he could do then. He had an option and he selfishly took it, knowing he could not live an eternity without this beautiful creature that lay stunned before him. Without a seconds more hesitation, Carlisle took his reason for existing in his arms.

"I love you Esme, more than anything in this universe," he whispered and his lips came down on her neck.

Her fate was sealed in that moment.

"I was too selfish to let her go," Carlisle smiled softly at us, "I couldn't exist without her."

My eyes flickered to meet Edwards, and I leaned to kiss him softly. We knew the feeling. I knew everyone else was looking at their mate's with the same adoration and gratitude. Had none of us become drawn into this dark secret world, we would not have met our soul mates. Carlisle and Esme's world was the start of that for all of us. They were the perfect standard.

Esme looked at each of us one by one and a soft smile illuminated her face, "You are my children. Had I not met this wonderful man, I would never have had a chance to have a family. You are more than I could have possibly wished for." She turned to Carlisle, "You have given me everything. Everything and more than I could have ever dreamed about. Thank you."


End file.
